


Blur

by Aerowax26



Series: The Arsonist's Guide to Good Manners [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Language, Scars, Soft Gladnis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-06 06:28:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14050950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerowax26/pseuds/Aerowax26
Summary: As a wounded Ignis lies unconscious, Gladio contemplates the state of things. Including his complicated relationship with Ignis.  (Set post Episode Ignis.)





	Blur

What the fuck was he thinking?

How the hell did it come to this?

If Gladio ever got so much as a second alone with that lunatic of a Chancellor, he was going to rip him apart, limb by limb with his bare hands for everything he and the Empire had done so far.

Luna was likely dead. Noctis barely escaped with his life.

He’d do it for King Regis.

For Jared.

For his own father.

Ignis... Well, he did this to himself, didn’t he? He knew the risk of putting on the goddamned ring and did it anyway. But he wouldn’t have done it if he’d had another choice, and for that, Gladio blamed Izunia and his relentless games and bullshit. So he would do it for Ignis, too.

Gladio took Ignis’ hand in his and held on. Ignis lay still, his breathing slow but steady. His wounds were on the mend, but they would leave behind ghastly scars. He might never see again.

“Damn you, Iggy,” Gladio murmured. “Why’d you have to go and do it?”

Gladio knew exactly why he did it. Ignis would never need to explain himself. Not to Gladio, who wasn’t so sure he’d have the guts to put the ring on himself, even if it meant saving Noct’s life. He’d find another way. One that didn’t involve sacrificing what he valued most besides his King.

Because that thing lay prone on the bed, battered, scarred, and Ardyn _fucking_ Izunia was likely the last thing he saw before the ring took his sight. That left Gladio with a bitter taste in his mouth. Izunia didn’t deserve to be the last thing Iggy got to see. He wasn’t worthy of that distinction.

Worse could have happened, if the old Kings and the Gods decided Ignis was unworthy of using their power. Worse things had happened to others.

Gladio reached out and swept sleep-damp bangs from Iggy’s eyes and took a good, hard look at his scars. Already, they’d turned pale where the flesh was healed. His left eyelid was a mess. His right less so, but still bad enough to be worrisome.

“Goddamned idiot,” he muttered. “You knew better.”

Ignis’ lips parted and he sighed softly. His hand tightened around Gladio’s. Gladio lifted that hand and held it against his chin and lips. Not a kiss. A prayer.

_Come back to me._

Exhausted from sitting there waiting for Ignis to wake up, Gladio kicked off his shoes and crawled into the space beside him. He laid a hand gingerly against Ignis’ back so he could feel the rise and fall of his breath and the heartbeat beneath his palm. He moved as close as he dared and wished he could fold Iggy up against his chest and never let go.

Gladio slept. When he opened his eyes again, it was to daylight, bright and clean behind sheer curtains, and the scent of fresh coffee. Prompto stood beside the table across the room, arranging mugs, cream, sugar and a fresh pot. Gladio watched him fiddle with the edge of the table cloth and then stand there dazed with his eyes cast toward the sunlight. Worry lined his brow and the corners of his mouth turned downward in a pout. He looked lost.

Unable to resist the lure of caffeine, Gladio sat up and stretched, forced into a yawn as his feet hit the floor. Across the room, Prompto startled.

“Hey,” Prompto said. “Thought you guys might want -” he waved a hand at the coffee. “Guess he’s not back with us yet... Wishful thinking, I guess.”

“How’s Noct?” Gladio asked.

“In and out,” Prompto said. “Not really with it.”

Gladio nodded and helped himself to the coffee and added a healthy dose of spirits to the cup to take the edge off. Prompto stared with those big, stupid, innocent eyes of his like he’d never seen alcohol before.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Prompto said. “I was gonna say it’s a little early, but....”

Prompto picked up the bottle an took a swallow, undiluted, and set it back down without flinching.

“Heck of a mess out there,” Prompto said. “Half the city’s busted...”

Gladio grunted. On bare feet, he crossed the room and opened the doors to the narrow balcony to let in some fresh air, then stepped outside. Prompto followed, carrying the bottle of spirits.

The patio stones were warm against Gladio’s feet and the breeze was the kind that normally lifted his mood, but all he felt was the heavy weight of tragedy bearing down on him. How were they supposed to go on after a thing like this? This was not what he expected to happen when they arrived in Atlissia.

“They would have gotten married today,” Prompto said quietly.

“Yeah,” Gladio said. He took the bottle from Prompto and tried not to picture what they were missing. “Damn shame. Would have given people hope to see them defy the Empire like that.”

That was the plan. To send a great big fuck you to the Empire. To prove the Kingdom of Lucis was not dead.

Gladio thought of his father then and bowed his head. There hadn’t been time to mourn. No time to pay his respects. But he was proud that his father stood beside his King in the end. Proud that his father died fighting. As it should be. If it came to it, Gladio would do the same. Even if Noctis was not yet ready to accept the burden of his station.

He uncapped the bottle and lifted it to the sunlight. A toast to his father, and to all those that died to get them here. Maybe Noctis didn’t understand the gravity of those sacrifices, but Gladio did.

“Where do we go from here?” Prompto asked.

“Depends on Noctis,” Gladio said.

“What about Igggy?”

“I don’t know,” Gladio snapped. Sore subject. One he didn’t have any answers for.

“Sorry,” Prompto said. “Just trying to figure stuff out.”

Gladio grunted and sipped his spiked coffee.

“You know, you don’t have to be here,” Gladio said. “It’s not like you owe us anything.”

Prompto snorted, shook his head, and leaned against the railing.

“Yeah? And where am I gonna go?” Prompto asked. “Back home? What kind of friend would I be if I took off when you guys need me the most?”

Gladio’s gaze slid sideways. He took in Prompto’s slumped shoulders and the fierce set of his mouth. The kid was annoying, barely knew how to fight, and could be juvenile at the worst of times, but he’d come a long way, and he was the only thing that kept Noct’s spirits up in the midst of this descent into hell.

“I’ve come too far to turn back now,” Prompto said. “And I owe Noct for being a friend when no one else would be. So I’m staying. Don’t like it? Too bad.”

Gladio snorted. “Your funeral.”

Behind them, a soft groan rose from the bed. Gladio straightened and passed the bottle back to Prompto. He turned around to see Ignis was awake, but barely.

“Why don’t you go check on Noct?” he suggested. “Give me and Iggy a minute.”

“Sure,” Prompto said. He passed by the bed, gave Ignis’ hand a squeeze. “Welcome back, buddy.”

“Prompto?”

“Yeah,” Prompto said. “It’s me.”

“I can’t see you," Ignis said.  "Noctis? Is he with you?"

"No."

Prompto’s mouth collapsed and he looked to Gladio. Gladio nodded his head toward the door and claimed the chair by the bed.

"Noct's gonna be fine."

"Good."

He took Ignis’ hand as Prompto left them and sighed. Ignis's open eye fixed unseeing on the ceiling, the pupil fully dilated and the iris milky.  

“You are one brave, stupid idiot,” Gladio said. “What the hell were you thinking?"

‘You know what I was thinking,” Ignis said.

“We almost lost you.”

Try as he might, Gladio couldn’t keep the emotion from his voice.

“You’re angry with me.”

“Damn right I’m angry,” Gladio said. “It was stupid.”

“There was no other option.”

Ignis struggled to sit up. Gladio helped and stuffed an extra pillow behind his shoulders to keep him upright. He looked like shit. Gladio leaned in and pressed his lips to Ignis’ forehead. He might be a brave, stupid idiot, but Gladio loved him for it. Beyond sense or reason.

“My eyesight...” Ignis began.

“I don’t know,” Gladio said. “If all the lore about the ring is true, then...”

“I see.”

“Are you seriously punning at me right now?”

“Perhaps,” Ignis said. His mouth curved into a weak smile. “Or perhaps my wounds will heal.”

Gladio had his doubts. The ring demanded blood for power. Ignis paid the price.

“Anything I can get you? Prompto brought coffee.”

“I could use a bath.”

“Alright,” Gladio said. “Give me a minute.”

He got up and went to the adjacent bath and turned on the water. The tub was big enough for the both of them with room to spare. He could use a good scrub himself.

While the bath filled, Gladio returned to the room and helped Ignis out of bed. Still weak, Ignis swayed in Gladio’s grip.

“How long have I been out?” Ignis asked breathlessly.

“Couple days,” Gladio said. Ignis slumped against him. “Guess I gotta carry you.”

“I can walk.”

“Prove it.”

Ignis took a few wobbly steps away from the bed. Gladio laid a hand against his back and guided him toward the bath, taking care to keep him away from things he might trip on. Though it was a struggle, Ignis toughed it out until they reached the bathroom door, then leaned against the frame to catch his breath.

Gladio dragged a hand over the back of Ignis’ head and slipped an arm around his waist.

'Don't push yourself," Gladio said. "I've got you."

In the bathroom, Ignis leaned against the wall and with shaking hands, undid the buttons of his shirt.  He struggled to remove his pants, his breaths heavy.  When his already pale face drained of color, Gladio stepped in to help.   

Once undressed, he guided Ignis into the bath, shed his own clothes and joined him. 

Ignis leaned into Gladio, his cheek to Gladio's chest, too exhausted to make a smart remark about Gladio inviting himself in.  Just the effort of going from the bed to the bath drained all the fight out of him.  Gladio looped his arms around Ignis and allowed him to stay where he was.  

He couldn't imagine fighting Ardyn on his own, power of King's or not.  Iggy must have really given his all.  

_Would you fight like that for me, Iggy?  Would you fight with everything you had to save me, too?_

Gladio left these questions unasked.  He didn't want to know the answer.  

“I said it before and I’ll say it again: You’re an idiot,” Gladio said. “Damn stubborn, pig-headed idiot.”

“Is that your way of saying you love me?”

Stricken, Gladio let go to glare at Ignis.  All these years together, and neither of them had ever dared say that out loud. He opened his mouth to deny it, but nothing came out.

Ignis smirked.

“Have I rendered you speechless?” he asked. “Or am I mistaken about your feelings?”

Gladio gave him his answer. Not with words, but with a kiss.


End file.
